Ghosts of Events Past
by idiosyncratic1
Summary: A little Halloween themed something that floated into my head.


October 31st, 2013.

Castle and Beckett were reclined on the sofa at the loft, watching the evening news. Kate had laid her head back against Castle's chest, and he absent-mindedly stroked his fingers through her hair. He was silent, sulking.

"You sure you don't want to dress up tonight?" Beckett asked, cautiously, for the third time that day. Castle let out a heavy sigh.

"It's not the same," he moped. Alexis was spending Halloween with Pi, who thought that the holiday glorified refined sugar consumption over nature's own sweet bounty. They were eating raisins, of all things, and burning sage 'to keep the negative spiritual vibes at bay.' Beckett glanced back up at him, frowning sympathetically, and entwined their fingers on his thigh.

"She's growing up," Beckett murmured. She had nothing to offer him, but the simple truth of the matter. There was no consolation - at least nothing that wouldn't seem patronizing.

"It feels like she's so far away now," he whined.

"Castle, she's no farther away than she was when she lived in the dorms on campus. Actually, she's a block closer."

"That's not the kind of distance I'm talking about."

"I know." Beckett said, squeezing his knee.

The news report shifted to the story of a Halloween prank gone wrong. A bunch of local high school students had set off an explosion in the cafeteria at lunch time with supplies they had stolen from chemistry class. Eleven were dead, and more were injured.

"Think you'll be called in?" he asked. Beckett shook her head. Lanie might be called in, she thought absentmindedly, ruining her date-that-wasn't-a-date with Esposito. But this one was way out in one of the boroughs, and she wasn't on call tonight anyway. She thought about turning the news off, maybe finding a good vintage horror movie on Netflix, so she could roll her eyes while Castle argued vehemently about the dangers of a zombie apocalypse. It wouldn't do any good now, as Castle was absorbed in the story, adding it to the mental list of dangers he could no longer protect Alexis from.

"When you think about it, we're lucky," Castle spoke up, long after the story was over, and the news broadcast had switched to sports. "That could have been us. That could have been us a few times: your apartment, the truck, the bank, the pressure plate. We could have been vapor, a red mist, so many times Beckett. I mean, if you'd had a plastic bathtub, that would have been it. We would have never gotten to know each other beyond our little cat and mouse game, and really, what are the odds that pulling on all the wires at the same time, at the last second would have disarmed that dirty bomb. You know, I remember looking over at you, and you took my hand, and there was this look in your eyes, and I remember thinking that I wasn't ready for it to end yet. That there had to be more for us, that..."

Castle trailed off at the end, and remembered the adrenaline coursing through his veins in that final second, the haziness, the feeling that the world was going to drop away at any moment, and he was overtaken for a second. The world shifted, and wobbled and drained of color for a bit, and he shook the thoughts away, his brain rejecting something about them. He gazed down at Beckett and everything flooded back - color and warmth, and the feeling of being alive, the air in his lungs. She had been looking at him, carefully, fondly, nostalgically almost, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"You okay, Castle?" there was a hint of concern in her voice, and she reached out to run her fingers through the hair along his scalp, as if she wasn't quite sure he was entirely with her. He startled a bit, and stared at her intently, questioningly for a moment, before he saw something that reassured him, and he nodded.

"I was just thinking," he said, his voice taking on a faraway edge. He rubbed absentmindedly at the diamond on her ring finger. "I know we've already established what you're doing with the rest of your life, but what are your plans for the afterlife, Beckett?"

"Looking to lock me up for eternity, Castle?" Beckett asked, a light-hearted lilt creeping into her voice. "How do you know I even believe in an afterlife?" Castle stared at her for a moment.

"I don't know. But I do. So, Beckett, how would you like to spend the afterlife?"

"Like this, I think. The way we are, right here. Right now. Solving crime together. Saving the world. Growing old together. I don't want it to stop, Castle." She paused then, as if something had just occurred to her, and became silent.

"Yeah, that's perfect, Beckett. That's what we'll do then." Castle whispered soothingly after a moment, and resumed stroking her hair. "That's how we'll live out the afterlife. Just like this." He relaxed then, and they settled further into each other, imagining what mysteries tomorrow would bring.

Darkness fell on Martha Rodgers empty loft.

* * *

_Boo! A little something for your Halloween._


End file.
